I'm Pregnant
by lillibattenberg
Summary: Several girls from the Ace Attorney universe are pregnant, and they need to tell hubby the good news. First chapter is an AU, because Miego. Rated T just in case.
1. Miego

Mia had expected a week or so of Hell to start sometime this week, but nothing had happened. This could mean one of two things: either something was seriously wrong, or (more likely) something was seriously right. She decided to check tonight, after Diego had gone to bed. That meant she could tell him in the morning if the news was good, and if it wasn't, he would never know she tried. She could lie on the sofa eating chocolate for the next week, and he could wait on her hand and foot like nothing had happened (apart from the obvious issue where Mia would turn into a raging Medusa for the week).

Mia woke up at around 2 in the morning with a sudden urge to pee. This would be the perfect opportunity to scientifically analyse the contents of her urine, as the new scientist in the Police Department would say. She crept into the bathroom, clutching the pregnancy test as if it meant her life.

She peed on the stick, trying her hardest not to gag as the awkward contraption didn't work and her hand got... rather wet.

She washed her hands, then rinsed off the stick.

She watched nervously as the first black line faded in.

She smiled and held back the tears at the sight of the little plus.

Diego woke up early the next morning. This was not entirely unexpected, as he had to go to work that day. What was surprising was the unexplained absence of the Kitten. She was always up before him, especially when they had a case together. Still, this was an excuse to make the Kitten breakfast, at least. He trudged downstairs and started to brew a pot of coffee.

Ah, there she was. His little Kitten, glowing like a Chinese lantern. Hey, that was new. Maybe he was just tired. After all, he had gotten up before her, and that was completely unheard of.

He yawned. Yup, definitely tired.

"Morning, baby."

Mia let out a suspicious little giggle and stuck her hand in her pocket. "Which one of us are you referring to?"

"You, of course." He must have been exhausted. He never called the Kitten by that name... hey, hang on.

One of us.

Baby.

"Mia, are you..."

She started crying and brought out the stick from her pocket.

"Yes, Diego. It finally happened.

I'm pregnant."


	2. Feenris

_**Author's note: I'm sorry, Yanmegaman! I know how much you hate Iris, but these two are my other OTP after Miego and I got writer's block on my Mayquill chapter. For the rest of you, enjoy the show!**_

Ah, life was good. Not only did Phoenix have good friends that he could rely on to not get drunk at crucial moments (seriously though, that was one of the biggest reasons Edgeworth had been his best man), but now he was also married to the girl of his dreams.

And Maya probably would have beaten him round the head with a stale baguette if she had heard that awful cliche.

Still, no time to think about violent assault with dry baked goods now. He had some more appetizing food to think about, courtesy of Maggey Gumshoe and a way-too-tiny barbecue. He had to get in there quick before Maya burgled the burgers and Edgeworth snaffled the Samurai Dogs. Not to mention Larry, who would do some unsavoury things to the salad if Sister Iris didn't get there first.

Well, she was ex-Sister Iris, actually. Nobody could get used to that, least of all Iris herself. After all, she had gone from being Dollie to being Sister Iris, and now she was back to being Dollie again. Her darling Feenie had insisted on using the old nickname, saying that she was still the girl he fell in love with despite her sweet personality being originally just a mask her sister used to achieve her own ends. Or some overly sappy version of that, anyway. And now, she was officially Mrs Iris Hawthorne-Wright, and had been so for a year.

Talking of which, there was the object of her affection precariously carrying two plates: one with a burger dripping with ketchup and one with a juicy steak and some thankfully ketchup-free salad. Larry could do some terrible things to a rocket leaf, and Feenie had had to get in quick to stop him from drowning the poor thing in enough ketchup to fill Gourd Lake.

"Hey, Dollie," he said as he plopped himself down on the sand beside her, "is it just me, or are all your tastes just way more expensive than my own?"

"Huh?"

"Look at our plates. You've got a fancy ribeye and enough rocket to plan a trip to Mars, and I've just got a burger the size of a small asteroid."

"Well, I suppose you might just be a little spacey tonight," Iris replied with a wry smile. "Alternatively, it might be all those hours down at the Angus Burger House with Mystic Maya."

"Burger point taken," Phoenix laughed, "but did you seriously just go there?"

"Like you haven't heard a stupid pun before, Feenie."

Hmm, that's true, Phoenix thought. For a start, it seems like most of my clients through the years have had stupid puns for names. "Anyway, never mind that. We'd better start eating this stuff before it gets cold."

"Good idea," Iris tried to reply through a mouthful of steak. She failed miserably, instead coming out with an incoherent "Hmph" that nearly signalled an unpleasant experience involving the Heimlich manoeuvre. Thankfully, Feenie recognized it as the "I was enough of an idiot to try and talk with my mouth full" noise that it was and not some kind of "I am rapidly running out of air and need you to hit me very hard" noise. In turn, Iris's throat had the courtesy not to close up at the worst possible moment and turn the former into the latter. Lesson safely learned, she sat and ate her steak in comfortable silence, broken only by the lapping of the waves and the occasional babble of sociable chatter from the speed-eaters who had already finished.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I am stuffed," Phoenix said rather inelegantly. "Should we go for a walk along the beach before I find out I can't fit into my suit tomorrow morning?"

"That would be a wonderful idea," Iris replied with what would usually be a suspicious amount of enthusiasm. Thankfully, her Feenie was too full to notice. If she had been paying close attention, she might have noticed him go slightly green. She picked herself up off the ground, batted off the sand and second-hand burger crumbs and galloped along trying to keep up with her husband (who, lovely as he was, had an unfortunate tendency to be late for things and thus was a very fast walker).

They had just about settled into a comfortable pace when Iris was startled by Feenie asking her a question.

"Has everything been OK lately? You just seem... somehow different. Like you're not telling me something."

"I'm fine, Feenie. Everything's normal."

Phoenix sighed. His wife was a terrible liar; he could see right through her without needing any kind of outside help. She had either decreased massively in competence since her college days masquerading as her sister, or he had suffered from chronic Larry Butz syndrome as a kid. Possibly both, he mused with some embarrassment.

Iris must have noticed Phoenix's mood change, because she gave up lying.

"Fine, I'll tell you. I was feeding an extra guest at that barbecue this evening. If you'd like me to put it another way, I'm eating for two."

Phoenix grinned like his idiot college self. "In other words..."

"Congratulations, Feenie. You're going to be a daddy. I'm pregnant."


	3. Mayquill

Simon Blackquill stared down his opponent as if he was fighting a duel. It made sense, really; there could only be one winner. He just hoped that that winner would be justice, rather than whoever the true culprit of this case was...

A sudden and rather feminine "OBJECTION!" cut off his train of thought. He shuddered in embarrassment, realizing that unless Wright-dono had suddenly morphed into his adolescent self, his phone had just gone off.

"Erm. Apologies, Your Baldness. May I just-"

"Go ahead. It's happened before, so it's not like we aren't used to it."

"Consider yourself lucky, Simon," Wright-dono chucked. "At least yours was just a text."

"Excuse me?"

"I remember when Prosecutor Godot had to take a call in the middle of a murder trial. Completely killed the tension-no pun intended, of course."

 _That pun,_ Simon decided, _was definitely intended._ He whipped his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen briefly.

Hey Twisted Samurai,

Don't bother cooking tonight. I've booked us a reservation at Tres Bien.

Love,

Mystic Maya xxx

"Thank you. That was hardly relevant to the matter at hand, but it was important personally."

"What did it do," Phoenix said with vaguely devilish glee, "let you off cooking?"

"Yes, actually it did."

Simon watched in satisfaction as Phoenix's jaw dropped just a little. Not so snarky now, were you Wright-dono? Still, this was no time to get all smug. He still had to help Wright-dono get this guy off the hook.

He _was_ innocent, right?

"Good evening, my lady."

"Hey, Twisty. How'd the trial go?"

"Quite well. Better than expected, actually."

"So did they get the wrong guy?"

"Of course. Wright-dono would never take the case of a guilty man unless there were... special personal circumstances."

"Hey! No bringing up traumatic memories!"

"No texting the prosecutor in the middle of a trial, then! Unless you want me to devise some alternative brave punishments for you?"

"Ooh, I'm so scared!" Maya giggled. "Strike up already, pipers!"

Simon smirked. She had literally just asked for it, and the last thing a samurai would ever want to do was disappoint his master. He reached his slender fingers towards her and started tickling her as mercilessly as Taka used to attack his prey.

Simon's stomach protested the lack of attention with a sudden undignified rumble. Talking of attacking things, he could really murder a fancy dinner right about now. Maybe the shellfish. He'd heard that was a good choice since the change in management had actually made the food edible. He was drooling slightly just thinking about it.

"Shall we start making our way?"

"Yeah, let's. I'm hungry."

"You, my lady, are always hungry."

"Hello and welcome to Tres Bien. How may I help you?"

"Good evening. There is apparently a reservation for... two, I believe, under the name Blackquill."

"Blackquill... ba-dum ba-dah, second floor balcony. Enjoy your meal."

"Come on, Twisty," Maya said as she linked arms with her husband and dragged him upstairs, leaving a starry-eyed receptionist dreaming of true love in their wake. She had heard the story and read all the headlines: the wrongfully convicted prosecutor finally reunited with his "princess", the tabloids gleefully reporting on the rumours that love was in the air, and then the shocking reveal on who that "special someone" actually was. She could still see the headline now (mostly because she kept it in her desk): **TWISTED SAMURAI FINDS NEW PRINCESS But heartbreak last thing on maid of honour's mind as wedding preparations continue** (or something to that effect). And now, "Twisty" himself was at Tres Bien! With his wife! On a date! Still, there was no time to waste dreaming about love everlasting when there was a queue everlasting waiting to be seated.

Meanwhile upstairs, a certain young couple were making awkward small talk punctuated by stomach grumbles and the occasional nervous twitch from Maya. They had already ordered, with Simon going for his promised shellfish and Maya deciding on a steak. Of course Maya was going to go for a steak. The gal had a second stomach just for steaks, apparently. (But she would kill you if you made a crack about her being a cow, so don't even try.)

"So... who did it in the end?"

"We don't know."

Maya was about to startle the rest of the patrons with an incredulous "WHAT?!" when she noticed Simon's stoic facade crack like a certain heirloom urn. How did she fall for that yet again? She was going to get him for that! Of course it was going to have been one of the nutcases on the stand. Unless it was the prosecutor who dunnit, and there was no way her beloved Twisty would ever have killed someone for real.

Oh, the food was here. She could plot her revenge later. But for now, there was steak. And whatever unappetizing goop her hubby had gone for. What even was that?

"Mussels in a garlic butter sauce, if you must know."

"How did you-?"

"The same way I got you to fall for my little trick earlier: I know all about the misapplication of analytical psychology. Anyway, bon appetit."

Simon surveyed the wreckage before him. _That,_ he thought to himself, _was amazing. Wish I had something to mop up the sauce with._

As if by magic, a waitress randomly appeared with a small plate of bread. Simon took the bread and looked at Maya incredulously. "Okay. My turn to ask how you did that."

"Simple really," she replied. "I didn't. I believe that might have been the waitress's idea."

Well, isn't she going to get an enormous tip. He gratefully mopped up the sauce. When he had finished, he stared at the pattern on his plate. It was quite pretty - some kind of plant completely unknown to botany. The flowers were tiny, purple and... looked suspiciously like calligraphy.

Hang on a minute.

These flowers were spelling something out. Simon traced the pattern with his finger, trying to avoid getting it covered in residual sauce.

I-M-P-R-E...

Maya only saw Simon get that far before she was rugby-tackled by her ecstatic husband. "Hey! Mind the kid, Twisty!"

"Oops. Sorry." He extricated himself from his wife before immediately hugging her again. "I'm gonna be a daddy!"

A certain waitress came out of the back room. "Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Blackquill. To celebrate, may I interest the three of you in some dessert?"

 **Author's note: And so the three chapters I had planned are up! Now open to suggestions, with (hopefully) the first being Yanmegaman's Justicykes request.**


	4. Justicykes

Apollo was utterly exhausted. Not that he would have been able to tell anyone, being sparked out on the bed (thankfully in his pyjamas and with the gel washed out of his hair). It wasn't even like it had been a particularly unusual day; his wife just had a habit of really liking her early morning jog. This normally wasn't a problem, as Apollo had gotten somewhat used to being dragged along in his battered trainers at six in the morning. He just wished Athena would let him catch a break when he'd spent the entirety of the previous night swamped in paperwork. As it was, he would have been impressed that he'd managed to stay awake until eight that evening if he wasn't already dead to the world.

Athena tiptoed into the bedroom, her pyjamas muffling the sound of her movements until even she could barely hear them. Poor Apollo had collapsed onto the bed with barely the time to wriggle out of his suit. Athena tried to regret forcing him out on her jog that morning, but she was just too distracted by how cute he looked. She smoothed his hair gently, with an almost motherly touch.

"Good night, 'Polly."

Athena was not looking forward to her checkup. In her lifetime, only one good thing had ever happened in a medical building, and she hadn't been keen at the time. Being dragged from a nice, warm, safe haven into the cold, cruel world was not fun in the slightest. Still, she supposed she had to go through with this, otherwise some huge problem could go unnoticed. She checked in at the front desk, sat down in the waiting room and picked up last April's issue of How It Works.

About halfway through an article about lifesaving coffins (for being buried alive in, apparently) the loudspeaker buzzed. "Athena Justice to Room Six, please."

Sighing, Athena got up from her seat and walked nervously into the room.

"Ah, Athena. Have a seat. Just here for a routine checkup, are we? Let's check your blood pressure..."

It was about halfway through the appointment when Doctor Miller did something very strange.

"Erm. Could I just have a urine sample, please?"

"Okay..." Athena really wasn't sure why her doc would want a urine sample at a routine appointment, but she supposed she could oblige. She ducked behind a screen and carefully peed into the little pot.

"Fabulous. Now, I just need to run a couple of tests." Doctor Miller dipped several different indicators into the pot, checking what colour they turned. Eventually, she turned back to face Athena.

"Congratulations. You're pregnant."

Apollo was already home from the supermarket when Athena came in.

"How'd the appointment go?"

"Pretty good, thanks. Nothing wrong with me. Everything's normal."

Apollo felt his stomach plummet as his bracelet tightened. Athena was lying to him. Everything was not normal. Something was up, and he had to squeeze it out of her somehow. He tried a subtle approach. "Nothing I need to worry about, then?"

"Nope."

No reaction. That was odd. Maybe the first bit was a false alarm after all. "So everything's normal."

"Yup."

There it went again. "I'm sorry, but you're lying to me and I won't stand for it. Everything is not normal, is it?"

Tears welled up in Athena's eyes. "You're right. It's not normal. Normal will never mean the same thing again." Her face cracked into a flustered grin. "We're having a baby."

Apollo's stomach rose back into its normal position. Everything was more than fine. He truly had nothing to worry about.

Well, apart from what gender Junior was going to be so he knew what colour to decorate the bedroom.


	5. Junipollo

Judge Junie, as she had been fondly nicknamed, was a little nervous. She was still new to the whole arbitration thing. Still, the defence would be willing to - well, defend her if things went horribly wrong, and she had heard the prosecution was nicer than he looked. Taking a quick puff of her sunflower to steady her shallow breathing, she walked through the doors of Courtroom Number 4.

"Ahem. Court is now in session for the trial of Hugh de Nitt." She restrained a giggle at the defendant's name - Polly always chose clients with terrible puns as names.  
"The prosecution is ready," Simon said calmly, albeit with a look of concern on his face. "Mrs Justice, are you sure you want to do this? I understand you were somewhat worried about the possible conflict of interest -"  
"Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine," Juniper interrupted. "That's why Athena's here." Yup, the prosecution was definitely nicer than he looked. "Mr Blackquill, your opening statement please."  
"Certainly. The defendant has been accused of burglary, having been seen climbing out of a building through a broken window with a rather... _full_ shoulder bag. The incident took place at around 1 a.m. Tuesday, August 3rd."  
"Ouch. Pretty damning. Mr Blackquill, your first witness."

The trial continued. It was pretty standard stuff: the star witness had "seen" the defendant leaving the building through a window, he called the police suspecting something fishy, blah blah blah. The only problem was, Apollo was getting precisely nothing out of the cross-examination. The witness just kept repeating himself over and over and over again. It was getting so tedious that Simon eventually snapped.  
"Witness, if you do not cooperate and start saying something a little more useful, I shall be forced to cut you down."  
"Simon, behave."  
"Yes, ma'am."  
"However, I do concede your point. Mr van Dahl, you may not be 'cut down' if you do not act more your age, but you will certainly be held in contempt."  
Apollo couldn't believe it. Not only had Junie told off _Simon Blackquill_ , a feat in itself whether he listened to it or not, but he had acted like a naughty schoolboy and quickly shut up! What had happened to the nervous girl fresh out of law school he knew back when they first started dating? He felt disturbingly like a proud parent.  
Still, the trial wouldn't wait for him to finish his sentimental musings about his beloved young wife. He resumed his cross-examination.  
"Right, so you say you were startled by the sound of the window smashing, and then turned round only to see the defendant climbing out of said window? Frankly, given this piece of evidence I find that hard to believe..."

The trial was over. Not Guilty, of course. It was likely that Mr van Dahl would appeal for the case to be ruled a mistrial, what with the defence's wife being at the judge's bench, but the appropriate authorities were already working to get the appeal overturned on the basis of every possible precaution being taken to avoid said mistrial. Besides, the only reason Judge Junie was in the same courtroom as her husband was because the assigned judge had been called away - not that any of this mattered to her as she exited the courtroom more swiftly than was comfortable. She had more pressing matters to take care of. Clutching a small purse, she ducked into the ladies'.  
She exited to find the agency excitedly chattering away to each other.  
"Mrs Justice, there you are," exclaimed her semi-adoptive father-in-law (ugh, this family was complicated). "We've decided to try something different for our little celebration tonight, because a new Chinese restaurant just opened up round the corner."  
Juniper just grinned. "Sounds fabulous. And I'm officially off hours now, so you can call me Juniper again." She suddenly spotted a dark and shadowy figure trying to slink out the door. "You coming, Simon?"  
"Well, considering that this is a celebration of a not guilty verdict..."  
"As someone who cares more about the truth than a perfect record, you'd secretly appreciate the invitation. Besides, Athena will be there."  
Simon laughed and put up his hands. "Okay, fine. You know my weaknesses."  
Apollo was dithering between dead impressed and completely smitten. _How do you do it, Junie,_ he thought (immediately following that thought up with _wait_ _for me, dammit!_ ) as he rushed out the door.

The celebration was in full swing. The grape juice was flowing freely (yes, it was grape juice - people had to _drive_ ), the food was piled high and Trucy provided the entertainment. She even pulled out a substantial tip for the grateful but slightly confused waitress, who was wondering exactly why a teenage girl's most famous act involved a pair of bloomers that looked like they belonged to her great-great-grandmother.  
"So, anyway," Apollo mumbled through a mouthful of spring roll, "how the heck do you get Mister Terrifying over there to listen to you? I've been trying for ages and all I get is death threats."  
Juniper had to think about that one. She wasn't actually sure how she'd managed to get him to shut up and listen, considering she was just as scared of him as the rest of the general public.  
Eventually, Simon answered for her. "She's braver than she realizes. After her little confession about Ms Courte's murder, I realized that she's a lot like me. She'd do anything for her friends, and after all I went through that gains my automatic respect."  
 _Wow, he's wearing his heart on his sleeve for her_. Apollo swallowed his spring roll and chanced a question to Simon. "You think everybody feels that way, or is it just us two?"  
"Oh, I imagine everyone does," replied Apollo's boss from across the table. "The agency certainly all admire you," he continued to Juniper.  
"Thanks, guys." Juniper pulled her husband into a hug that squished him until he could barely breathe. "I really appreciate it - especially from you, Polly. Love at first sight and all that."  
"You're... uh, welcome," Apollo replied, waving his hand-knitted, bright pink, heart-print scarf in his wife's face. "Now can you please stop trying to kill me?"  
"Okay, fine. When you beat me up with your last Christmas present I know to stop squishing you," Juniper giggled as she pulled away.  
Her purse (or one of them) fell out onto the floor with a conspicuous clatter, reminding Apollo of something.  
"Something's going on, isn't it?"  
Juniper tried to stay calm. _He knows_ , she thought to herself. "Why do you say that then?"  
"I spotted you duck into the bathroom back there. You were lugging that little floral purse around despite - and I know, because you are a crier - being at exactly the wrong point in your 'cycle' to need it."  
"Congratulations, Polly. You get a cracker." Juniper drizzled a little sweet-and-sour sauce on a prawn cracker and fed the fluorescent result to her husband. "Open wide. This stuff stains like the dickens."  
Simon snickered through a mouthful of chicken satay, nearly spraying Athena with his half-chewed dinner.  
"Hey! Besides, you should probably check that precious surcoat of yours," Athena said with what was supposed to be a joking tone but instead belied her genuine concern even to the untrained ear.  
Simon gulped (easy to do with a mouthful of food) and looked nervously downwards. "Ah, good. I'm fine. I haven't had a highlighter's guts spilled all over me. Yet."  
Juniper hadn't heard a word of the conversation, despite being pretty much next to Simon and Athena. Instead, she was rooting around in her tiny little purse for a small piece of hard plastic. She eventually found it and pressed it into her husband's hand.  
Apollo was dumbfounded. "What's this? I'm confused."  
He looked at what Juniper had pressed into his hand. He smiled. He squished her exactly like she had done earlier.  
"Babe... I'm so happy..."  
"So," Phoenix piped up, "is this on a need-to-know basis or can you tell us what's going on?"  
Juniper glanced downwards at her already slightly swollen abdomen (though that might have just been the food).  
"Guys, I'd like you to meet..." - she gestured towards said abdomen - "...the newest member of the agency."  
That night, the other patrons were startled by a sudden wave of cheers, congratulatory phrases in about five different languages and occasional childcare tips coming from the party at Table Five.


	6. Klema

"Ugh, I could really go for some chocolate right now," Ema grumbled from her desk piled high with way too much paperwork.

"Why am I not surprised?" Klavier said as he dropped a jumbo bag of Snackoos on top of a heap of reports she had to file. "You seem so drained lately, it's obvious something's going on."

Ema sighed. "I would have assumed it was the usual ladies' ritual, but..."

"But what?"

"Never mind." Ema opened the bag and stuffed a handful of Snackoos into her mouth, emitting a mumble that sounded roughly like "Thanks babe, you're a gem." She got back to filing, methodically sorting case notes into alphabetical order. Well, it was technically date order, but they were roughly the same under the new naming system. None of the old random-letter stuff that had confused everyone when they realized that SL-9 happened before AX-4 and so on. Now she had cases like A071239. 7th December, 2039, first incident.

Erm, was that out loud? And if so, why? Klavier was out of the room by now, and he knew all this stuff anyway. She looked around. No new plants, the rubber duck was the same - oh yeah, she was pregnant. She would really have to let Klavier know about that one. Now, how to let the guy who's always wanted kids know that his wife is pregnant without him going utterly insane...?

"Whoa, you ate the whole bag! Is it a bad week?"

"Not really. I suppose it's just where I haven't been the only one."

Oops. Klavier was looking at her funny. Perhaps that was a bad hint to drop. Thankfully, he didn't have his best man's magic bracelet on him. She didn't want to use the usual phrase "eating for two," especially since Klavier generally started flapping and squealing like a teenage girl if you gave him a bit of good news. Instead, she had to take evasive action that would have landed her in hot water if Klavier had shared any of Polly's living lie detector skills. Ha ha, "evasive action." Made her sound like her boss. Gummy was a good guy, but he sure liked his euphemisms. She remembered one time when he said that a homicide victim had "successfully kicked the oxygen habit." Mr Edgeworth had glared at him for that one.

"Penny for your thoughts, _ja_?"

"Uh, just reminiscing about past cases. Nothing in here though."

"Talking of in here, you look like you could use _eine Hilfe_."

"Aww, thanks. Do you know where to put these ones? They're under the new system..."

About an hour and several hundred pages later, the paperwork was finally safely filed away and it was crunch time.

"So, Klav."

" _Ja_?"

"You'll, uh, probably have to ask Mr Edgeworth to lighten up on your case assignments for the foreseeable future."

"Erm, _warum_?"

Oops. The Glimmerous Fop was starting to crack. Ema would have to ease up a bit if Klav was going to last the conversation without breaking down into a babble of incoherent semi-German. Poor guy was starting to get suspicious, and when he got nervous he forgot how to speak English. "It's just that, erm, things are gonna change in a few months and I can't really cut down my schedule that much."

"Things are gonna change? Oh, _Gott_ , what have you done now?"

Ema sighed (again). "You see, I wanted to break it to you gently so you wouldn't react too strongly."

Poor Klav was looking really worried. Ema knew she had gone about this all wrong. Still, it would make finding out so much sweeter.

"What I've done, you glimmerous fop, is gone and gotten myself pregnant."

"You mean... that we're..."

Ema nodded.

Klavier's mouth dropped open. A little squeal came out of the corners of his mouth.

And then, yes, he started excitedly flapping and screaming, exactly as predicted.

 **Gloss for the German (there's quite a lot of German):**

 **Gott = God**

 **Warum = Why**

 **Ja = Yes**

 **Eine Hilfe = a help (literal)/a hand (equivalent in English)**


	7. Klucy

"To me, _schatzi_!"

Klavier giggled like a schoolgirl as the frisbee hovered past his ear and attempted to land in a tree only to be caught in the act by his skinny fingers. It was crazy to think he had once had zero coordination and even less self-confidence. The band had changed all that, leading to him marrying a fellow performer and disappointing all the groupies.

"Okay, your turn Herr Porcupine!"

"Hey, that's Dad to you!"

Phoenix failed miserably to catch the frisbee, instead watching it fly free until it dropped abruptly into the middle of the lake. "Ugh, it happened again. Missile, fetch!"

Missile, full name Missile Junior, splashed his way into the lake and retrieved the frisbee, now covered in teeth marks from one too many dodgy throws and subsequent doggy rescues.

"Good job, Missile!" Trucy said from a decent distance, waiting until after he had shaken off the water to retrieve the frisbee and give her precious pooch a well-deserved hug.

"Good game, huh, _schatzi_?"

"I'd say," replied Trucy with a grin so huge you'd think she'd lodged a slice of melon in her mouth. "Safe to say, Daddy wins the award for 'Least Likely To Catch The Darn Thing'."

"I reckon Gourdy must be a bit annoyed by now," Phoenix laughed.

" _Ja_ , that seems likely. Anyway, lunch."

They were halfway through their picnic when Trucy sat up expectantly and shared a conspiratorial glance with her husband. _Should we tell him,_ she said without letting a word leak out.

 _Don't worry, I'll handle this,_ Klavier replied equally silently. He turned to Phoenix.

"Enjoying today?"

"Definitely. Thank you for inviting me along."

"Yes, well this is probably the last time it it'll be just the three of us, _ja?_ " He sighed and leaned back, staring out over the lake. "Next time you come here you'll most likely be with the grandkids."

"You think it'll take that long?"

" _Nein._ "

Phoenix was confused. Surely he was too young for grandkids? After all, he was barely in his forties and... hey, wait a minute.

If he'd had a kid at twenty, and his kid had followed in his footsteps, he'd have a grandkid by now. And what would happen if the kid he'd adopted at thirty had grown up and gotten married? She was certainly old enough to be having kids now. Besides, he was old enough for his skull to start, ahem, showing vacant spots. He liked where this was going, even if it heralded the start of a midlife crisis.

"Truce, do you have something to tell me?"

Trucy nodded enthusiastically, leaving Phoenix nostalgic for the old times and Klavier worried that his _schatzi_ would give herself whiplash. "I'm pregnant, Daddy. I'm having a baby."

Phoenix wasn't sure whether to cheer or cry. His little girl had grown up while he wasn't looking. In the end, he just hugged her instead.


	8. Trumon

Simon struggled against his bonds, but to no avail. He was stuck fast, tied to a chair with a rather nasty-looking saw heading straight towards him.

"Are you seriously going to cut me in half? How cliche," he spat through his ineffective gag. "I would have thought better from a supervillain such as yourself. Did you never read the Evil Overlord List?"

"Oh, I did," his captor chuckled in a decidedly cheesy manner. "I just didn't bother to follow it."

"Let my husband go."

"What was that, little girl?"

"I said," Trucy replied sharply from a nearby balcony, "let my husband go."

A full metal version of Trucy's signature theme blazed as she swung across onto the stage, earning the applause of a legion of squealing fans.

"Impressive. However, a simple imitation of Tarzan - and a bad one at that, you didn't even scream - is not going to earn your 'husband' his freedom."

"Then I suppose I'll have to do it myself," Trucy said and pointed her finger. Simon wiggled a bit and his bonds fell away. He leapt elegantly out of the way of the oncoming saw, pausing only to press the "Stop" button.

"No point in wasting a good, solid chair. Now, where were we?"

Trucy pointed again, this time at the self-titled "Great Mr. Reus". He abruptly disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving behind only a faint "CURSE YOU GRAMARYE!" from somewhere offstage.

"And that is how the Great Mr. Reus was defeated. Yet again. Will this guy never learn?"

It was cooler backstage than it had been under the hot lights, and yet Trucy was still sweating like the proverbial pig. Not that pigs could actually sweat, according to a friend from high school.

"Well done, little girl."

"Hey, well done to you, too! You were great out there!"

"Another good show, my sweet. How are you two feeling?"

"Thanks, Simey. Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'm good, thank you for asking. You know, I swear that saw's getting faster."

Simon just smirked.

"It is getting faster, isn't it?"

"Polly was never so great at escaping. Simey here, on the other hand..."

"Isn't that horribly dangerous? I may play a supervillain, but I don't want you to get hurt for real!"

"Calm down. It's a rubber saw. The worst that's going to happen is that I get a bit beaten up."

The Great Mr. Reus looked sceptical. "I'm still not happy about it." He abruptly turned round, startled by something. "Oh, it's just my agent. I guess I'll see you guys later."

"Alone at last," Trucy sighed. "Hey, pick a card, any card."

Simon couldn't help but laugh. This was possibly the most ancient trick on the planet, but he always fell for it. The best bit was, with his background in psychology, he could tell you exactly why.

Carefully watching for any direction - or misdirection - from Trucy, he picked a card. He looked at it and memorized it, not telling Trucy what it was. She put it back in the middle of the pack, and shuffled the cards around. Slowly and carefully, she picked up the first card and handed it to Simon.

Wait. Why'd she look so... solemn? That was way more serious than she had ever been before when doing a magic trick. Even when she was "rescuing" him, she always had a cheeky little hint of smile in her eyes.

"Is this your card?"

Simon looked at the card. The ace of hearts - not his card. That was weird. Trucy had shown him, if not the oldest trick in the book, certainly the first. This was the most stereotypical stage magician's illusion ever. And she never got it wrong. Surely he was missing something?

He took another look at the card. There was a stylized picture of a happy family on there. The husband was in a black surcoat and had long black hair with white streaks reaching down his back. The wife was in a blue dress and top hat, and was carrying a bundle that Simon recognized as a baby.

And, at the top, were two words: "I'm pregnant."

"So," Trucy repeated with her famous smile back on her face, "is this your card?"

"Does it matter?" Simon replied as he hugged his precious wife around her tiny bump.

 _ **Hey, it's the author here. I'm sorry guys, but I'm getting a little tired of this fic. My inspiration and drive to do this kind of stuff is just... gone. I'm going to move on to other projects. I might come back if I get a good idea, but I'm marking this fic as complete for now.**_


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